After the Kiss
by HeatherAnne
Summary: Begins right where Bridget Jones’s Diary ended. How did the rest of that fateful evening and beyond go for Bridget and Mark? Some mature subject matter. Reviews welcome.
1. New Beginnings

Written by: C. Vaughan 

2005/2006

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Helen Fielding

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**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter I

New Beginnings

_Weight: 9st 4 (sex really is the best exercise, isn't it?); Alcohol units: 1 ( shared with beautiful man); Number of gorgeous, sexy new boyfriends: 1; Negative thoughts about anyone or anything: 0 (disregarding brief panic attack)_

**Saturday December 29**

**6:00am **My arse was frozen solid, but I'd never felt more warm and cozy in my life, engulfed in Mark Darcy's arms under the warmth of his wool overcoat. Such soft yet masculine lips. Hmmm. We stood in the center of the dimly lit snow-dusted street for nearly a half hour kissing as if no one was watching, knowing full well that a small crowd of curious onlookers had formed. Wondered if our "performance" was applause-worthy. I certainly thought so, but when our lips finally parted, heard nothing but the thunderous pounding of my own heart. Think I may I have heard the throbbing of Mark's as well. We were lost in each other's eyes. There were no words that I could have possibly spoken in that moment to tell him how I was feeling. My dear, sweet Mark Darcy. _I love you. _I wanted to say. _I love you_. I wanted to shout. Too soon, I warned myself. Mustn't scare this beautiful man who just gave up a prosperous career in America…for me. I can't believe it! He wants to be with…ME!

We walked quickly, hand in hand, back to my flat. He sacrificed his own warmth so that I could cover my near naked body in his coat. Smelled of his aftershave. Hmmm. Such a gentleman. We made idle chitchat along the five-block trek but it was obvious to both of us that we wanted nothing more than to be reunited in each other's arms, in the warmth of my flat…of my bed.

"Bollocks!" In my haste to chase after Mark in my knickers through the snow, left my keys upstairs. Was stuck on the street, in the middle of the night, with amazing man hot for my body. I wanted him and he wanted me. Began to bang like a mad woman on the main door into the corridor, hoping to wake a neighbour. Surely they would take one look at Mark and understand the urgency of my situation, not to mention the fact that I was literally freezing my arse off. Seriously hoped Vanessa, my downstairs neighbour, being a Singleton herself, would recognize the urgency of my knock. Knocked again…and again. Irrationally, I began to search for a way to scale the side of the building. Three stories, at eleven-thirty p.m. If Spiderman or Batman can do it… Began to eye the rubbish bins. That will give me a good start. Then I can somehow manage to… Mark interrupted my thoughts with a loud chuckle at the sight of me mounting the rubbish bins. "What on Earth are you doing, Bridget?" he asked with phony irritation. I think he was looking at my near-bare arse when he spoke. Before I could respond, the lid of one of the bins gave way beneath my foot and I fell into a heap of Mr. Ramdas's discarded fish dinner leftovers from two nights ago. "Oh Holy Jesus!" Am now in my knickers, Mark's black wool overcoat (probably now ruined), in the middle of the night, covered in rancid fish guts.

Have never seen anyone laugh so much in my life…and at my expense for that matter. Though I must admit it was wonderful to see Mark laugh. He always seems so serious…sad really. Must change that. Couldn't help but laugh myself as Mark helped me step out of the bin. Nice man. Trying to act as if I didn't stink to the high heavens, but could tell that he was trying his best not to gag.

Luckily my ruckus alerted Vanessa and she opened the door to the building, though not happily. She was not alone. Half naked gorgeous male stood next to her. As Mark and I passed by, she and I exchanged winks.

As we entered my flat, we gazed longingly into each other's eyes, but I knew that I had to have a shower. God bless him for temporarily tolerating my not so enticing scent, Eau de Rotten Fish. While I freshened up, advised him to make himself comfortable…_in my bed…_near the fire, and I'd be back shortly. Popped my head out of the loo to remind him not to read any more of my "old" diary. "I'm too tired to chase you down the street again." He smiled. I melted.

Emerged from the bath, wearing little more than I was before. This time in a short, blue slip dress. Didn't want to seem too presumptuous, even though it was now twelve-thirty a.m. The flat felt so toasty. Mark had stoked the fire, was sitting on the white, fluffy rug in front of it, and was warming his bare feet. He even has lovely feet. Stood watching him for a moment, drinking him in, before joining him on the floor. Dina Carroll sang quietly in the background. Asked him if he was warm enough. He handed me a glass of Chardonnay and we toasted to new beginnings. After a few sips, Mark began to nuzzle my neck. Hmm He took the flute from my hand and placed it behind him. He then proceeded to remove my dress and eased me back onto the carpet. Arched my back in anticipation of the touch of his exquisite hands and lips on my chest and stomach. He stopped abruptly and brought his face to mine. Our eyes met and without words, we said everything we had wanted to say to each other for the past few months. Oh how I have come to care for this wonderful man.

He carried me to the bedroom and laid me gently on the bed, my breath quickening with anticipation with every step he made. Watched him as he removed his clothes, my mind racing with the possibilities of what was to happen next. How could I ever have thought this man was so awful? He's positively perfect. Of course I realized this on the night of my birthday. The way he looked at me at dinner…I knew…I just knew…he was "the one". He was so lovely not to make fun of me or my disastrous blue soup. God, he's gorgeous. I wanted him badly…madly!

He began to kiss my face…my throat…my neck…my shoulders…my…...in a way that sent tremors throughout my entire body. He whispered in my ear how much he wanted me…needed me. Mark made sweet, tender love to me for hours. Daniel has nothing on him. Mark's wife was mad. But, I'm so very thankful that she was, otherwise I would not have just had the most extraordinary night of my life. We laid awake afterwards talking…just talking, and holding each other. He told me everything about him…and I about me, every embarrassing detail of my 33 years. Though from two entirely different worlds, we were so very right for each other….needed each other in fact. Mum really had gotten it right this time. I have never felt more close to anyone in my life. I think I am in love with Mark Darcy.


	2. Dinner?

**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter II

Dinner?

**Saturday December 29**

**12:00pm** Spent the morning in bed with Mark. V. tired for having spent almost 10 hours in bed. Am feeling quite hungry. Not much to offer, but returned to bed (and naked man) with two blueberry bagels and coffee on a tray. Mark had drifted off to sleep again in form of cuddly teddy bear wrapped in duvet. Looked for a place to set tray down. Gah! Note to self: Really must clean flat. Am embarrassed of its current state. Placed tray on nearby chair (and pile of clothes) and climbed into bed next to Mark. He did not stir. Poor dear must be v. tired from jet lag…and not sleeping all night. Will just lay here and watch him for a while…

**5:12pm **Awoke to sound of Mark's mobile beeping, with pen stuck to side of face from falling asleep while writing. Glanced around. No Mark, but his phone was next to the bed. Heard water running in the shower. "Oh God! Natasha! What does she want?" Sat staring from mobile to bathroom door and back again. Mark didn't hear it. Should I answer it?

**5:13pm **Did he tell her to bugger off? Maybe she is calling to beg him to take her back? Oh shit!

**5:14pm **Did he tell her that he was leaving her for me? Hope she isn't a jealous homicidal maniac. Gaaaaahhhh!

**5:15pm **Maybe he hasn't told her anything and is waiting to see if we work out. If not he will return to New York and her. Bastard!

Looked up and snapped diary shut. "Bridget, you look like you've just seen a ghost. What's wrong?" Mark startled me, standing in the doorway, green underpants on, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. "Don't worry, I have no intention of peeking at your precious diary," he explained with a smirk. Mark sat down on the bed next to me and we shared a long, lovely kiss. God, he smells good wearing my soap. We sat on the bedside for a while longer with our foreheads touching, gazing into each other's eyes. Mark makes me feel like a giddy teenager on a first date, instead of semi-respected, thirty-something journalist with scary hair and chubby cheeks.

"I'm famished," Mark announced, standing up. "What would you like to do for dinner?" He began to put on the turtleneck and trousers he had been wearing last night. Then he began to fill his pockets with everything he had placed on the bedside table last night. He had not looked at the mobile yet, or if he had I didn't notice. Was he going to call her back? "Bridget, are you listening? Do you want to have dinner with me or do you have a hot date with some male supermodel tonight?"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot about Roberto. I'll ring and cancel." I stood up, still in my dingy, blue, terry dressing gown. Why had I not put on something more flattering?

"So glad you can pencil me into your schedule. I am most appreciative." We grinned at one another. Then Mark put his arms around my waist. "You are so good for me. Do you know that? We have been together for less than 24 hours, and already I have laughed and enjoyed myself more than I have in many month's time. Thank you Bridget." He kissed the tip of my nose lightly, then my cheek, and then rather hungrily on the mouth. Hmmm…

"Oh, look...weapons." I turned to see Mark banging this morning's bagels together, demonstrating their hardness. "I'll just dispose of these rocks and cups of mud while you get ready." He left me alone in the bedroom to contemplate what to wear on our first public outing together.

"Do you mind if we stop by my house on the way out so that I can change clothes?" he asked from the other room. Goody!

I quickly showered and dressed. Mark reentered the bedroom impatiently. "Are you ready yet?" His mood seemed to change when he saw me standing in front of the mirror in a short dark turquoise dress. "You look so beautiful." His eyes were so penetrating. "Don't be daft. I haven't even done my hair or face yet," I scoffed. "Doesn't matter. You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen." He stretched his long arms around my waist from behind and began to lightly nibble my ear. No one had ever said that to me before. Tears began to well up in my eyes.

We missed the dinner reservation that Mark had made. We shagged for hours, feeding our actual hunger on lust.


	3. Insecurity

**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter III

Insecurity

_Weight: 9st 3 (Yeah!); Alcohol units: 12; Feelings of insecurity and inadequacy: Too many to count_

**Sunday December 30**

**8:45am **Am really starving now! Feeling nauseous. Went to give Mark a kiss, but he wasn't there! His clothes, keys, wallet, and mobile are gone also. Oh God! He must have gotten Natasha's message and now he's….Gah! I don't want to think about it.

**8:55am **Message on fridge:

_Bridget,_

_I'm sorry for leaving you. I received a call early this morning about business that needs to be attended to. I'll call you soon._

_Mark_

Wish Urban Family was not in Paris for the weekend. What does this mean? What business? Natasha? I'll call you…soon? What does soon mean? In an hour? Next week? Three days from _never_? I didn't even hear the phone. Freaking out…Freaking out……..ok, get a grip Bridget.

**9:00am **Mark…please don't leave me.

**9:45am **When is he going to call?

**10:45am **When the _hell_ is he going to call?

**11:50am **Who the hell does he think he is shagging me and then running away? Maybe that was his plan all along. He came back to London to get me out of his system and now, at this very moment, he's on his way back to New York, Natasha, and his other haughty friends. Bastard. I'll bet he's going to call from New York and say: Sorry Bridget. I don't think it would work out between us. I've realized that I don't really like you just as you are. You are a ridiculous, fat twit.

**12:00pm **I. Am. Not. Going to feel sorry for myself. Who needs him anyway. Just because he is smart, handsome, fantastic in bed, and sort of funny. If he rings, I'm not going to answer it.

**1:45pm **Oh! Knocked over lamp running to phone. Was just Mum. Babbling on about some hairbrained thing that she and Una were planning. Not really listening. When she nagged me with the usual: "Have you met anyone nice, dear?" I chose not to mention that Mark had returned, ravished me like an animal, and then left. "I do hope you can find a date for New Year's Eve tomorrow. Una and I will see what we can do." Oh God! Have become charity case. Told Mum was v. busy with errands to run. Hung up. Laid on sofa with bag of crisps, bottle of wine, and When Harry Met Sally video.

**3:35pm **Love how Harry and Sally finally realize that they are meant for each other in the end, on New Year's Eve. Oh God! Will surely die alone. Too much wine. Will just rest now…or puke. Not sure which yet.

**7:15pm **Mark just rang! Said he was sorry for not calling all day. He explained that since having left the law firm here in London for the partnership in NY, and then resigning that position, he had no job. Was busy all day ironing out details of getting his old job back. He did not mention why Natasha called, but the important thing is he's staying here! He's on his way over now. Oww…head fells like lead. I'll just lay here on the sofa for five more minutes before I ….

**Monday December 31**

**12:10am **Mark Darcy is such a nice, understanding man. Was still on the sofa when he came round. Gah! At least was able to brush my teeth before I opened the door. Really could have used a few more minutes to pull myself together, but the snow was coming down hard. Poor Mark was shivering when I opened the door. Had to let him in. The smile disappeared briefly when he first saw me. Oh God! Must really look like shit! He proceeded to pluck potato crisps from my rat's nest hair then gave me a big hug. Hmmm….so nice. Would have been nicer if hadn't been so disastrously hung over.

"Are you ok, Bridget?" Mark asked with concern in his eyes as he removed his snowy overcoat. "Yea…sure…I just…fell asleep on the sofa while I was watching the telly. We lingered over to the sofa. He kissed my neck lightly then stopped to brush crisp crumbs from his lips. "Maybe I should go freshen up. Just make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back." Mortified, I left the room before he could respond.

Feeling so much better, I returned to the lounge in a short, pink floaty dress. Mark handed me a cup of rather strong coffee. "I thought you might be needing this." Glanced at the empty wine bottle in his other hand. He motioned me to sit with him on the sofa. Noticed that he had straightened up the flat a bit while I was in the shower. He must really think I am some sort of pig, and this is my sty. He pulled my legs up onto his lap and began to lightly massage my bare feet and calves and kiss my knees. I leaned sideways against the back of the sofa, watching him.

"Mark…" He stopped what he was doing and looked me in the eyes. "You know I didn't think you were going to come back, don't you?" He blinked several times with confusion, furrowing his brow.

"Why would you think that? Do you think that I was just making everything up?"

"I don't know. I guess…well…the note you left this morning…and Natasha…"

"What does Natasha have to do with us? She's in New York," Mark interrupted.

"Well, I know she called your mobile yesterday. Isn't she angry that you left?"

"Well, frankly, yes she is, but that doesn't matter. I've told her that I don't have romantic feelings for her. I never have Bridget."

"But at the Ruby Wedding party, your father said…"

"Yes, and I was horrified when he did. Natasha had led him to believe there was more to us than there was."

"Well, she does seem to be rather…uh…controlling."

"To say the least," Mark lamented, embarrassed. "Anyhow, I don't want to talk about Natasha. It's you that I want to be with. Ever since we ran into each other at the Kafka's Motorbike launch, I've had feelings for you, though at the time I wasn't quite sure what those feelings were. I was confused by my own emotions. I was so extraordinarily jealous of Daniel Cleaver though. Fate seemed to keep bringing you and me together, but then Cleaver would step in." His eyes dropped from mine. "I don't understand why our paths keep crossing. Did you know that he and I actually used to be mates?" I placed my hand in his. His vulnerability showed me a side of him that I had not yet known, so human, so real. Was so turned on. Wanted to shag him senseless straight away…but, we sat holding hands, my head resting on his shoulder.

"Do you want to go out for dinner?" Mark asked, breaking the silence. "I have yet to take you out on an actual date."

"Why don't we order takeaway," I answered, with ulterior motives of course for the suggestion.

"Hmm…I like that idea very much." I could tell from the smolder in his eyes that he understood.

Mark and I ordered Chinese takeaway and ate on the floor in front of the fire. Dinner was quick, as we were both more interested in "dessert". There was no time to move to the bedroom. The urgency of our desire was too intense. Our hands and lips explored every inch of each other's naked intertwined bodies amidst the dim firelight. We parted breathlessly only to come together again moments later. At last, as I rested my head on his bare chest, I wanted to tell him that I loved him, but desperately I wanted him to say it first. Instead, he held me to him, lightly running his fingers down the length of my spine before drifting off to sleep.


	4. Happy New Year, Darling

**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter IV

Happy New Year, Darling

_Weight: 9st 9 (not smoking eventually causes weight gain); Alcohol Units: Who cares! (It's New Year's Eve); Cigarettes: 4 (good for having quit for 3 whole days); Cigarettes smoked in front of boyfriend: 0; Unexpected encounters with Ex: 1_

**Monday December 31 **

**3:15am **Mark just left after a rather fantastic goodbye kiss. Could tell that he really didn't want to go. Was really hoping he would have stayed. Love waking up next to beautiful, sexy man. He said he had some early business to attend to, but would ring me as soon as he woke up. Before leaving, he asked yet again if I would go out on a real date with him...for New Year's Eve!

**7:30am **V. excited for three reasons:

1. Am first thought of the day for hunky man (Is he my boyfriend? Special

friend? Buddy? Sex partner?)

2. Mark is taking me to see his mum and dad today (…as his girlfriend? Special

friend? Buddy? Sex partner_?) I know he likes me, but what am I to him?_

3. Mark invited me to be his date for a party at Magda and Jeremy's tonight.

_BOLLOCKS! V. SHORT NOTICE._ _HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!_

V. busy and important day. Must go shopping straight away.

**11:30am **Can't believe Shazzer and Jude hadn't rung me up until today. Still in Paris having fantastic time. Where were they yesterday during my nervous breakdown? What a difference a day makes. Told them all about my weekend with Mark, while frantically searching for the perfect dress at Debenhams for tonight. "You go girl!" Was really hoping for better advice than that, being that am not exactly poised social butterfly.

Thankfully, just happened to run into Magda, who was out picking up some things for tonight. She chose a sexy dress for me that she thought would surely drive Mark mad: a low-cut dark plum colored calf-length dress. Most definitely an occasion for fat sucking knickers. Also bought silk nylons and 3-inch heels. Really wish I had time to practice walking in them. Will surely be making payments on today's purchases for at least six months. Mark is worth it_…I think…I hope_.

Gah! Mark will be round in 15 minutes to pick me up for two hour car ride to Grafton-Underwood. Not sure why we are driving up today, just to turn around, come back to London, then go back out tomorrow. Never got around to telling Mum and Dad about Mark and me. Perhaps will surprise them tomorrow. Hope she doesn't have a "date" for me. That could be rather awkward.

**12:15pm **"Mark…why are you taking me to visit your parents?" I asked sheepishly.

"Well, you are my girlfriend, aren't you?" He took his eyes off the road for a few seconds to give me a salacious wink. I giggled a bit, my cheeks feeling flushed.

V.G. Will avoid potentially embarrassing situation by _not_ being reintroduced to Admiral and Mrs. Darcy as their son's new sex partner. Am now bonafide girlfriend of handsome, top human rights barrister.

**7:45pm **Had a lovely afternoon with the Darcys. We ate a fabulous assortment of scones and finger sandwiches, as well as ginger tea. There was no mention of Mark's aborted move to America or Natasha. I suspect that Mark had probably requested that the subject be avoided. Later, Mrs. Darcy and I chatted about Mum and Dad, my blossoming, yet sometimes tragic career at Sit Up Britain, and tomorrow's turkey curry buffet, while Mark and his dad discussed some boring business dealings (the actual reason for today's visit—should have realized that from the start).

Mark's mum surprised each of us with a wrapped gift as we were preparing for our drive back to London. Gah! Light-blue scary snowman jumper! V. bad color for pasty white complexion, but v. thoughtful. I exchanged a sideways glance with Mark as he held up his own coordinating dark-blue scary snowman jumper. We were expected to wear them to the buffet. Ugh! Mrs. Darcy gushed over what an adorable couple we will be tomorrow.

Mark and I had a good laugh in the car on the way home.

**Tuesday January 1**

**8:45am **Mark picked me up at around 9:30 last night, after ringing me 4 times to see if I was ready YET. He looked extremely handsome in a tailored black suit partially concealed by his long black overcoat, now thankfully minus the fish smell. He seemed equally as pleased to see me in my new dress with hair swept up. My fiercely uncomfortable shoes brought me closer to his eye level. He helped me with my coat. Then kissed me tenderly just before opening the car door_. If this is a dream, I don't ever want to wake up. _

We arrived at Magda and Jeremy's grand estate twenty minutes or so later. Magda was definitely the most well off of all of my friends. Many of Mark's law partner friends were already there as well as a few people that I knew through Magda. Mostly Smug-Marrieds. It was v. nice to show up on the arm of Mark Darcy for all to see. Maybe now, I won't have to endure endless questions of when will I ever find someone nice. Most mean well, but irritating just the same.

Mark and I both took a glass of wine from the bar and proceeded to circulate the room together. Most guests seemed genuinely surprised that _I_ was _his_ date. _Why is that so hard to imagine, you uptight pricks!_ I soon found myself embroiled in what I found to be a less than stimulating conversation about the current economic world recession and opinions of the IMF with a bunch of overbearing bores. At the same time, Mark seemed to be less than pleased in my participation in said conversation, somehow finding comfort in staring at his shoes. Shortly thereafter, I left Mark to find a group of my "own kind", normal people. That's the great thing about Magda and Jeremy. They have an assortment of friends, and at this point the only mutual friends of Mark and myself. Sure, they are Smug-marrieds, but not insufferably so.

It didn't take me long to find better company in a group of guests discussing the importance of owning a fabulous pair of Prada boots and matching bag. Soon after though felt a gentle hand on my lower back and turned to find Mark. "Care to dance?" _Good. Perhaps he came to apologize for having boring friends._

I smiled obligingly and allowed him to lead me to the dance floor, depositing my fourth empty wine glass on a nearby table as we walked. My feet were really starting to ache.

"Are you having a good time, Bridget?" He pulled me in close and we began to move as one with the music. Hmmm….

"Yes, it's a lovely party. Don't you think? Magda and Jeremy have really outdone themselves. Thank you for bringing me." Our eyes met, then our lips.

"Is it midnight yet?" Magda, who had been circulating the room, interrupted with a smile. Mark immediately released his hold on me, seemingly a bit embarrassed, like he'd been caught with his hand in the biscuit tin. The room began to spin, though not sure if from too many glasses of wine or from reaction to the amazing kiss. "You look absolutely fabulous tonight, Bridget. Doesn't she Mark?" Magda gave me a wink.

"Yes…yes, she looks beautiful, as do you Magda." Mark looked from me to Magda and smiled sweetly. _He really can be quite charming._

Jeremy, Cosmo, and Woney soon joined us. Ugh! If one were to look up "smug-married" in the dictionary, there would be a picture of the two of them. I still haven't forgiven Cosmo for being such a prick at Magda and Jeremy's last dinner party. At least Woney has since given birth and so Cosmo isn't constantly rubbing her stomach like a crystal ball and talking incessantly about babies and how everyone should have one.

Eventually, we were able to escape Cosmo's yammering (don't think Mark cares much for him either). Mark left momentarily to fetch us both another drink. I was pretty surprised that he had actually had several glasses of wine tonight as well.

"Oh Holy Jesus!" I swore quietly.

Unfortunately, Mark had returned and heard me. "What's wrong?" He stared wide-eyed at me while I tried not to divert my eyes from him. Didn't want him to see what…who I just saw. Standing across the room with his arm around a long-haired stick insect was none other than Daniel Cleaver. He looked fantastic as ever in a black suit jacket, pinstriped shirt with top button undone. No tie, as usual. Exuding arrogant confidence. _Damn, he's sexy!_

What the hell was he doing here? Oh God! He's stalking me! Got to keep Mark from seeing him!

"Bridget…hello? What's the matter?" I didn't know what to say.

I grabbed Mark, forcing him to kiss me, the glasses in each of his hands sloshing about. He stepped back and handed me what was left of my wine. "I'll ask you again…what is the matter?"

"Nothing really, my feet are just really killing me."

Mark's worried expression softened. "Oh, is that all. That made you want to kiss me?" he inquired with amusement.

"Do I really need a reason to want to kiss the most dashing, sexy man in the room?"

"I suppose not," he answered lustfully. He took my face in his hands and kissed me passionately…longingly. "I can't wait to take you home," he whispered. We began to dance slowly…silently, my head resting on his shoulder.

When I glanced back over toward Daniel, he was staring at me from across the large room, an occupation previously possessed by Mark. Holding tightly onto Mark as Daniel watched, I began to nibble and kiss Mark's ear, my gaze still on Daniel. _Don't bother me! _Pressed so close to Mark's body, I could feel his growing arousal. I turned and smiled at him wickedly. "Not _yet_," he whispered. At that moment, I again wanted to tell Mark that I loved him. _Not yet. He's got to say it first._ I wish Daniel would leave me alone and let me be happy.

Twenty minutes until midnight. I excused myself from Mark promising to meet back up with him in fifteen minutes to ring in the New Year properly.

Finally alone on the balcony with the other smokers, I was able to smoke an urgently needed cigarette…or four. Since becoming involved with Mark, I had quit…3 whole days (but still carried an emergency stash in purse). This was an emergency. Sat on the stone bench with my shoes off…my eyes closed, contemplating what possible reason Daniel could have for being here. Ahhh!

"Jones!" Opened my eyes to find Daniel staring down at me, lighting up a cigarette.

"What are you doing here?" I asked offensively.

"Bridge, I'm not here to spy on you and that self-righteous wanker Darcy, if that's what you mean."

"Daniel Cleaver, I'll thank you not to insult my boyfriend!" I stood up, hands on my hips. _How nice it was to call Mark Darcy my boyfriend._

"Oh, so he's your boyfriend now?" He began to laugh arrogantly. "Figures!"

_God! What did I ever fancy about this man! He's infuriating! _"What's that supposed to mean? Mark is a better man than you could ever hope to be."

"Forget it Bridge," Daniel rolled his eyes as if to dismiss me.

"Why are you here?" I repeated.

"Bridge...not that it's really any of your business, but I'm here with Vivian. I believe she is the daughter of a friend of your friend Magda. _Figures he would be here with someone half his age._ "It's almost midnight. I've got to get back to my date. I suggest you do the same." He gave me one final condescending glance before crushing out his cigarette and returning to the party.

I reentered the party but located the loo before finding Mark. Needed to brush my teeth, so as not to have to explain to him why I was smoking.

"There you are! I've been wondering where you had gone." Mark gave me a nice hug and kiss. I could taste the wine on his breath.

Two minutes until midnight. Magda and Jeremy had arranged for everyone to have a glass of champagne to toast the New Year. We stood holding hands, counting down the seconds…

Gave a sideways glance to Daniel, who was again watching me...raising his glass in my direction. I didn't care. I was with the man that I wanted…needed. Mark is who I love.

"…five…four…three…two…one. Happy New Year" everyone shouted, hoisting his or her glasses into the air. Mark and I turned and passionately kissed one another as if no one else was in the room. We had finally truly found each other, and this was the first day of the rest of our lives together. The beginning of my happy ending.

The ride home seemed endless. We barely made it into my flat. Mark pressed me hard up against the wall, something fell and broke. He pinned my hands over my head, our fingers laced. We stared deep into each other's eyes. I was actually trembling. The kiss we shared sent shock waves throughout my body. Our tongues explored each other's mouths hungrily.

He released my hands and I began unbuttoning his shirt…fumbling with his belt…

Mark thrust the zipper of my dress down. It fell to my ankles, exposing my black, scary knickers. Gah! He didn't notice…or didn't care.

We stumbled up the remaining steps. Then he scooped me up in his strong arms and carried me to the bedroom, laying me on the bed forcefully. He climbed on top of me, straddling my eager body. He cupped my face in his hands, lifting me a bit from the mattress, arching my back and kissed me passionately, taking my breath away. Gently he eased his way down my body with a trail of soft kisses then…seductively began to remove my silk nylons one leg at a time, caressing each against his cheek. _Oh dear God, this man is amazing. Thought I might spontaneously combust. I had no idea such an aloof, repressive man could be filled with such passion._

Unexpectedly he climbed off the end of the bed and began to finish removing his own clothes. Oddly, he took the time to meticulously place his clothes over the back of the chair and FOLD his underpants. V. strange.

After taking care of the necessary precautions, he rejoined me. I had taken the liberty of removing my own undies and had climbed under the sheets. There was enough light in the room cast from the neon sign outside that I didn't want to scare Adonis with own scary body.

The momentum of our passion was instantly recaptured. Dug my nails deep into his back to stabilize myself from the explosion that was happening inside. We rode the wave for a long time until we were both too exhausted to go on.

"Happy New Year, _darling_," Mark whispered, touching my face, before falling asleep in my arms.


	5. Turkey Curry Buffet

**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter V

Turkey Curry Buffet

_Weight: 9st 6; Cigarettes: 0 (v.v.g.- constantly with Mark); Sneaky, jealous boyfriends: 1; Secrets revealed: 1_

**Tuesday January 1**

**9:00am** Can't believe how fantastic last night was with Mark. He is something of a supreme sex god! Love lying here watching him sleep. Think I'll just have a look under the sheets to pass the time. Hmm…V. nice. Can't believe how lucky I am for having snagged such a magnificent man, even if he does fold his underpants. Maybe if he wakes up right now, he could ravish me again before we head off for Grafton-Underwood. He's not moving. Must have worn him out last night…or he's died of a heart attack.

"Bridget, why are you staring at me?" Gah! How did he know?

Laid my still a bit blurry head on his chest, as he turned over onto his back, naked beneath the sheets. Hmmm… So hard to resist.

"Bridget, did you know that Daniel Cleaver was at the party last night?" Oh God! He did see Daniel.

"Uh…yes, I did happen to notice that he was there with someone." He could probably feel my heart pounding more rapidly. "Mark,…"

"Did you speak to him?"

I didn't want to lie to him. "Um…yes, I did, but only for a moment. Mark,…" I lifted my head from his chest to look straight into his entrancing light brown eyes. "You have nothing to worry about. It's you that I…want to be with." I still couldn't say what I wanted to really say. A half-smile appeared on his lips.

"I know." He sounded unconvinced and even a bit worried. He kissed me sweetly once…then again…then again…we shared a delightful, slow, mid-morning shag. Nowhere near the drunken rapture of our late night escapade, but lovely just the same.

**11:10am **While Mark showered, I decided that I would surprise him with breakfast. Light, fluffy cheese omelettes, juice and coffee. Dutifully, I began to grate, stir, and flip. Oooo…phone…was Shaz, back from Paris.

"So…how's Mark? Is he there now? Fill me in! Tell me fucking everything!" I tried to get a word in. "Is his arse as gorgeous out of his trousers as it is in them?

"Great…Yes…I already told you yesterday…and…even more so," trying to sound nonchalant, but then I began to giggle uncontrollably.

"Tell me again. This time leave NOTHING out." Poor Shaz lives vicariously through me since fuckwit, Simon is such a total crumb.

Was stretched across the bed, pouring out every fantastically romantic and erotic detail of the last few days when I was suddenly jolted back into reality by a terrible earsplitting sound. "What the hell is that!" Sprang off the bed. Mark bolted out of the loo, glanced at me then darted toward the kitchen. Flames were shooting out of the frying pan that contained the forgotten omelettes. The kitchen filled with black smoke. "Oh shit!"

My knight in pink cotton armour searched for something to douse the fire before ripping the towel from his waist to smother the flame.

"Oh, he looks angry. I'll call you back Shaz."

"Well, are going to just stand there? Do…something!" Mark shouted over the blaring smoke alarm. With shaken hesitation, stood on a chair to get the alarm from the wall and ripped the batteries from back to make it stop squawking. There was a pounding on the door from the neighbours downstairs. Exasperated, Mark promptly exited the room to find his clothes.

"Is everything alright in here?" Vanessa asked, the same half naked man from a few days ago trailing behind her.

"Yes, of course, just a tiny kitchen fire. Could happen to anyone, right?" She did not look amused and retreated without saying a word.

Mark reemerged from the loo, looking even angrier than before. "Bridget, what in the name of all that is holy were you thinking? You could have burned the whole bloody building down! If you put something on the stove, for Christ sake, watch it!"

My eyes dropped to the floor. _Don't cry, stupid Bridget. Do not let a man make you cry. _Hope this is not going to be what our life together will be like, him making love to me one hour like I was a woman, and reprimanding me like a child the next.

Just stood silent for a moment, then said innocently, shrugging my shoulders a bit, "I just wanted to make you breakfast."

Mark's mood softened, hopefully realizing that he was not in fact speaking to a 2 year old. "I'm sorry darling…I guess I just realized…that…I don't know what I would do…if something… were to happen to you," he stammered through his strained but heartfelt declaration. We embraced. Suddenly further realized to what extent Mark cares for me. My heart is so full of this man.

Mark read the morning newspaper at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee while I showered and dressed for the dreaded Turkey Curry Buffet. The demonic-looking snowman glared back at me through the mirror, repeatedly catching my attention as I tried to make sense of my hair. Ugh!

Unexpectedly, Mark appeared behind me, encircling my waist with his arms and resting his face in the curve of my neck with a faint sigh of contentment. Somehow, this year, his snowman jumper didn't seem as silly as last year's reindeer disaster. Ironic really how one's perception of a person can change so dramatically over time due to unforeseen circumstances.

"So how are we going to do this? It could be fun," Mark announced, lifting his head to look at my reflection in the mirror, his arms still around me.

"What?" The shocked expression on my face made him laugh.

He knew what I was thinking. "I wasn't suggesting new ways to use the loo facilities…though not an entirely bad idea." He kissed my neck again. "What I meant was, how are we going to handle this buffet situation? No one but my parents knows about our…uh…union, and I swore Mother to secrecy."

"Oh God. Can only imagine what Mum will say. She will take full credit for everything of course. Ugh! I do not want to be "outted" in front of a room full of drunken perverts disguised as family friends."

"Well, I was thinking it might be fun to put on a little charade of sorts." He turned me toward him and began to kiss my neck as he spoke softly. "A stolen kiss here...a covert hug there…a clandestine meeting in the garden at 4. What do you think of that?"

"Sounds very exciting Mark…you devil." Oh goody. Love games. We kissed passionately to seal the deal.

**11:50pm **We decided to arrive separately. Drove to Mark's parent's home together. Then took a taxi to Mum and Dad's. Mark was going to drive over with his parents in an hour or so. Mum had her usual culinary oddities displayed. Many guests had already arrived, including Una and "Uncle" Geoffrey. Oh God, here he comes…

While trying to dodge Geoffrey, ran into Cousin Roy. Was trapped in a rather uninteresting, inescapable conversation about fly-fishing when HE arrived.

So very handsome. Can't believe he is with me. Gave him a surreptitious wink.

Was wondering when the humiliation would start. Mum grabbed my elbow and began to parade me around the room. Glanced over at Mark who was standing with a group of people I didn't know, positioned so that he could watch the show without being too obvious.

"Thank you for coming," she announced to various 30 and 40 somethings . "This is my daughter, Bridget. She's a successful journalist, but rather unlucky in love." Oh Jesus, why not just auction my off to the highest bidder! Most of the men Mum has introduced me to so far have given the all too familiar, fake smile, "nice to meet you" bit, before turning back to their previous occupations. This is more humiliating than I thought it would be.

Mark approached me, holding an empty plate as I began to fill my own plate at the buffet. He began to load his own plate with mini gherkins and turkey curry. "Has your mum sold you to the highest bidder yet?" he joked. God, was he reading my mind?

"Not funny. This is thoroughly humiliating. I want to tell her the …." Mark began to massage my lower back with his free hand, making sure no one was watching.

"Meet me upstairs in 10 minutes," he whispered. My nether-regions began to twinge spontaneously.

Luckily was able to steal a few moments with Dad, who was standing alone munching on a carrot nibblet. "How's it going Dad?"

"Disastrous state of affairs really. How are you?"

"Not bad. Just wish Mum would stop trying to fix me up with every eligible bachelor in England."

"Yes, I can see how that would be an inconvenience to you and that Darcy fellow." He gave me a wink.

"What? How did you know?"

"I've been watching you Dear. It hasn't been that hard to figure out. Mark seems to be quite taken with you as well. He has hardly been able to keep his eyes off of you all afternoon."

"Really? He's been watching me?" completely disregarding the fact that my father had been spying on me. "Dad, please don't tell Mum. Not yet anyway. We don't want…"

"Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks Dad." I kissed him on the cheek, then glanced at the clock. "We'll I've got to visit the loo. See you later."

Bounding up the stairs, trying not to seem too eager, I searched the landing. No sign of Mark. Walked slowly down the hallway. Suddenly was pulled through an open doorway into a spare bedroom. "What took you so long?" Mark locked the door behind me and began to flood my neck with kisses. Our evil snowmen engaged in a nose-to-nose face-off as we tumbled onto the bed. We were in full mode of a teenage-like grope and fondle session when we heard approaching footsteps. "Bridget?…Bridget darling, where are you?" Was Mum. The locked door handle jiggled. "Bridget, are you in there?" Oh shit! Mark and I furiously began to smooth our rumpled clothes and straighten the bed linens. "Get in the wardrobe," I whispered urgently. Mark rolled his eyes and then complied. This definitely wasn't the way I wanted Mum to find out. "Just a minute, Mum."

"What are you doing in there? I've found the perfect man for you. He's 41. He's in television, just like you Dear. He works for the BBC. Oh, and he's divorced. He has a 4-year-old daughter, named Rachel. Now we won't need to worry about you being too old to have babies, Darling, he already has one." A chuckle came from inside the wardrobe.

Flung open the door. "Mother, please…I do not need for you to find me a boyfriend." Tried to hide my worry as Mum poked her head through the doorway to look around.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just having a lie down for a bit. Not feeling too well after last night's party."

"You really mustn't drink so much Dear. You will get all wrinkly and then how ever will you catch a husband?"

"Oh please Mother!" embarrassed that Mark was hearing every pathetic word.

"We'll come on…mustn't keep Roger waiting." Mum snapped her fingers for me to follow.

Deep sigh. "I'll be right down. Just let me freshen up a bit."

Mum looked at me strangely then began to walk away. I closed the door.

Mark climbed out of the wardrobe with utter amusement all over his face. "Oh this is fun!"

"Oh sod off. It is not," I pouted. He reached for me, but I stepped back and turned toward the door. "Now if you will excuse me, my dear, it appears that I have a date," I teased and left him alone in the bedroom.

Downstairs the room was still abuzz with activity. Mum and Auntie Una were fusing over the buffet table, while Dad and a couple of old farts huddled sullenly in the far corner of the lounge. In sharp contrast, Jamie and a few of his mates circulated about the room in usual jovial manner.

My dear brother, Jamie, has always had a much easier time of it than I –tall and handsome, very smart having graduated from Cambridge just a few years behind Mark. His evil, stick insect wife left him a few years ago for a younger man, but he didn't stay down and out for long. Now he's dating 3 stick insects simultaneously. None of which knows about the others. None of which are here today. Presumably in case he happens upon a fourth that he might like to drag back to his lair. Seriously hope he doesn't become a jaded, man-whore like Daniel Cleaver.

Mark reentered the room, pinching my bum surreptitiously as he passed by. Mum had not yet noticed my return so I slinked off alone toward the kitchen in search of an aspirin. The whole situation was giving me a headache.

"Bridget? Bridget Jones?" I turned to see a slightly stocky, but handsome dark haired man standing in the doorway. "Hi. I'm Roger. Roger Weathersby." He held out his hand for me to shake. "Your mother has told me so much about you."

_Oh God! I hope she hasn't told you too much. _"How nice." I smiled politely.

Roger really was quite an interesting and funny man. Not only did we both work in television, we seemed to have several things in common, daft, overbearing mothers for one. I genuinely enjoyed chatting with him.

"You would not believe what happened to me at work the other day. I was…" Roger began.

"Sounds like something that would happen to me."

We were both laughing rather loudly when Mark walked in. He stood in the doorway looking rather sad. "Hi Bridget."

"Uh…hi Mark. Mark Darcy this is Roger Weathersby." They shook hands. "Roger here was just telling me about a rather…unfortunate mishap that reminded me a lot of my Lewisham Fire Report." I began to giggle again.

Mark remained serious. "Oh…I see…good. I'm glad the two of you have so much in common." He turned to leave the room. It suddenly occurred to me what was happening. _Oh no! I love you Mark! Why don't you tell him that I'm your girlfriend._

I ran to Mark and pulled him back into the room, urging him not to leave. "Where are you going Sweetheart?" The look of disappointment on Roger's face did not escape my notice, or Mark's for that matter. Roger and I said our goodbyes. He and Mark made eye contact but did not speak as he left the room.

"Oooo, green is not a good color for you," I teased, hoping that he would not make an issue of this.

"Pardon?"

"You were jealous. Don't try to deny it. I find that extremely sexy." I playfully lifted the bottom of his jumper and stuck my head and shoulders inside, burying my face in his chest.

"Get out of there, you silly girl." He chuckled. _Crisis averted._

"Why were you able to speak to him so freely? When you spoke to me last year you were rendered verbally useless." He pulled me close, backing me against the kitchen counter.

"Oh don't be a dolt. Why do you think?" I teased, placing my hands flat against his chest. "What woman wouldn't become, as I believe you said to your mother, verbally incontinent in the presence of your…uh… overwhelming masculinity."

"Oh, stop taunting me you little vixen." He kissed my forehead…just as Mum and Una came clattering into the kitchen carrying empty serving platters.

And that's how it happened. The truth was out. The jig was up. Mum spent the remainder of the afternoon strutting around like the cat that had gulped down the canary. When she found out that the Darcys already knew, she swore that she would never speak to Elaine again for withholding such pertinent information. That lasted all of an hour. By the end of the day, Mum had already picked out the flavor of our wedding cake and named our future children. Dad and I just rolled our eyes at each other in quiet tolerance.

Mark seemed more than a little uncomfortable with all of Mum's sudden constant hovering and grilling. _Shut up stupid mother. You are going to scare him away!_

Time to go. Thank goodness! Kissed Mum and Dad goodbye (Mum kissed Mark too), grabbed Mark's hand and followed the Darcys to the car.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Dear."

"Yes, I'm sure you will. Bye Mum...Dad."

On the drive back, I thought about how jealous Mark became when he saw me with Roger. Couldn't help but smile. I think he loves me.

Got back to the flat and we both collapsed onto the sofa to unwind and watch a bit of telly. Have no idea how Blind Date ended, as we decided to finish what we had started in the spare room at Mum and Dad's. Hmmm…

Mark just left, deciding that it was best if he didn't stay the night, but promised to pop round after work tomorrow. Back to reality of the world for both of us…Christmas/New Year holiday break over. Must return to being hard-hitting, woman of substance, well on my way to becoming a Pulitzer Prize winning journalist. Message from Richard didn't notice before…Something about a rather terrifying skydiving assignment over the English countryside….must not bugger it up. Time to get some much needed sleep.


	6. Sex and Skydiving

After a year away from this story I've decided to add a new chapter to what is actually a prelude to my other story.

I have incorporated the alternate beginning of The Edge of Reason (film) that is a deleted scene on the DVD, into my interpretation of events that followed the beginning of Mark and Bridget's relationship.

**Bridget Jones: After the Kiss**

Chapter VI

Sex and Skydiving

_Weight: 9st 6; Cigarettes: 14 (Due to fear of death and being chucked—Will definitely quit smoking tomorrow); Hours have been in functional relationship: 123; Minutes standing in shower after humiliating swine encounter: 50_

**Thursday January 3**

**9:10am My flat **Bugger! Am late for work yet again! Sodding alarm didn't go off. Probably due to fact that did not remove clock from rubbish bin last night after particularly randy shag session with boyfriend, whereby Mark cleared entire surface contents of self's bedside table with his foot. Actually woke up this morning at the foot of the bed half swaddled in bed linens resembling Roman toga with similarly attired naked man sprawled next to me. Mark Darcy was something of a ravenous beast last night. Can't wait to tell Shaz and Jude all about it. They will certainly be sick with envy!

Have had fantastic boyfriend for 5 full days now, which translates to 18 equally as fantastic shags. Am v. much looking forward to shagging beautiful man for v. v. long time to come. Maybe even for rest of self's life if am lucky. Shaz and Jude warn not to get hopes up too soon. He's still on his best behaviour, they say. Give him another few months to become complacent and before I know it he'll be coming round every night after work, parking himself in front of football on the telly, scratching his arse, and barking about why I don't have supper on the table yet. What do they know? They both have crap relationships. Mine is perfect. Mark isn't an alcoholic, workaholic, or fuckwit. And he never gets angry or swears. He is perfect. A gentleman in every way…except maybe in the bedroom. Hurrah!!

**9:20am **"Bridget, where the hell is my sodding left shoe?! I'm late for work!!" Uh-oh! He sounds v. upset. Is only indirectly my fault that alarm did not go off, but have physically exhausted boyfriend to point that is definitely my fault that he did not wake up early and is now going to be late for important meeting with foreign ministers.

**9:23am** Had better help him find his shoe before he tears flat to shreds.

**9:30am** Was on the stairs by the front door.

**9:55am Sit Up Britain office **Am v. bad influence on v. important lawyer. He was so worried about getting to work he did not kiss me good-bye. In fact, think car may have still been rolling when he dropped me off in front of the studio.

**9:56am** At least he's not an alcoholic or fuckwit. Gaah!!!

**10:25am **Nonchalantly dropped self into plastic swivel chair while Richard Finch's back was turned toward the coffee machine. Tried to look busy with stack of papers on conference room table as if had been sitting there the whole time.

"She's here Richard," Veronica, my miserable excuse of a colleague announced arrogantly, cutting her eyes in my direction. Long lovely legs, shiny auburn hair, perfect skin, bad attitude. Hate her! Stupid stick insect witch! Ever since I snagged the only interview with Kafir Aghani and Eleanor Heaney, she's been out to get me. Jealous of my success as a highly regarded journalist, while she's been passed over for promotion twice in the past year. Will just keep to myself that the only reason I got the interview was because Aghani's defense attorney had a mad crush on me.

"Ahhh the prodigal daughter has arrived! Now maybe we can begin," Richard slurred as he plopped into a chair to my left. Opened my mouth to explain, but was met with dismissive hand motion. Veronica sneered with satisfaction. I glared back. "Now then everyone…" He was rambling on, but was not really listening as was thinking about Mark's parting words in the car, "Don't forget. Renoir Cinema at 6:55. Don't be late." Have never even heard of the film that he wants to see. Foreign, I think. Sounded boring really. No matter. Will be perfectly content just to sit in the dark with him and hold hands. "Earth to Bridget Jones!!"

"What?…Oh, I mean pardon?"

"So help me if you are thinking about that boyfriend again…Have you heard a word I've just said?" Jealous pervert! I see the way he eyeballs me like a piece of meat. Likely just bitter that I won't let him grope my arse and fondle my tits.

Jealous! Jealous! The whole lot of them!

"I've heard exactly what you said…Something about flying round Kent, was it?"

"Very good…and you'll do fine as long as your chute opens."

Wot!!!! "I have to jump _out_ of the plane?"

"Yes, Miss Jones. That's why it's called sky-_diving_," Richard articulated. Veronica and a few others snickered.

"About that…I really don't think I'm right for the job. You see, I'm afraid of heights. And well, frankly, I really do look horrid in jumpsuits."

_When doesn't she look horrid?_ Could hear Veronica whispering into another colleague's ear. _I don't know what Mark Darcy sees in her._

_An easy lay,_ another suggestively whispered back.

Back to Richard, "Could improve our male demographics, but unless you want your knickers showing on national television at 6000 feet you'll leave the short skirt on the ground and wear whatever the bloody hell the skydiving company outfits you with! Got it?"

"Right." Was no foreseeable way out of it. Was likely going to freefall to self's death today in a tragic skydiving accident and would never get the chance to tell Mark how much I love him…or to hear him say it first. Was feeling pretty low.

The others were filing out of the meeting room, including Veronica. Richard remained seated next to me sipping the remains from his coffee cup. "Aww…cheer up Bridget. You, Simon, and Clive will be heading out in the caravan in 20 minutes for your safety training." Sighed loudly, but said nothing. "They'll teach you everything you need to know. You'll be in good hands," he added in a surprising display of compassion while patting my shoulder and looking not so inconspicuously at my breasts. "It will be fun. You'll see."

"Okay. I'll do it," I replied with my bravest face. He's right. People jump from planes everyday, right? Nothing to worry about…Unless of course my lines get twisted and my chute opens too late, similar to that poor bloke a few weeks ago. Bugger.

"That's our girl." He grinned and stood to leave. "Oh, and by the way," he craned his head around to face me. "You might want to notify a next of kin. You know…just in case." Gaaaahhh!!!!

**10:35am **Next of kin? Was he kidding me? Definitely am not going to call Mum and Dad and tell them what am about to do. Mum would forbid it for reason that have finally found a good, sane man and if am killed that will put an end to it. When I spoke with her yesterday on the phone, she was still beaming about Mark and me. She said that she could cancel her eBay auction. Gaahh!! She was joking...I hope.

**10:40am **Had better ring Mark to tell him that I love him…just in case.

**10:42am** Got Mark's voicemail. Couldn't do it. Didn't want him worrying during important meeting with government officials. Reminded him to pick up his dry cleaning after work instead.

**7:25pm Taxi en route to Renoir Cinema **After an excruciatingly nerve-wracking caravan ride sitting between Clive and Simon trying to memorize report, then an equally as courage-depleting procedure and safety training, was eventually strapped into a v. unflattering orange suit with parachute pack. When the plane reached the spot where I was to jump, had lost the tiny bit of nerve remaining and gripped the side of the plane for dear life. Was sure that we were higher than 6000 feet. Seemed more like a 1,000,000. Could no longer remember a single thing the instructor had said to do. Doom!!! Doom!!!

No way! Not going!

Had no idea that I live in such a beautiful country!! So glad Richard threatened to publicly humiliate me if I didn't jump. Only a few initial moments of sheer panic and terror as I forgot one v. crucial detail-- to pull the line to open my parachute. Was rapidly plummeting head over feet to the ground. (Will leave that part out when I retell the story to Mark.).

The view was brilliant! Rivers, bright green fields, farms, lush trees, and a perfectly lovely aerial view of Leeds Castle, all pieced together like a patchwork quilt. Makes one take stock of what is really important in life…my budding romance with Mark Darcy! Must not do anything to bugger it up.

The descent was harshly punctuated by a disgraceful, disgusting, headfirst landing into a pin of dozens of oversized horny pigs. "This is Bridget Jones reporting from a big vat of excrement." V. humbling indeed.

And once again my arse will be a prominent feature in the report. Bugger!

**7:28pm **Am going to be sacked.

**7:29pm** Not going to worry about that now. Am v. late and about to be chucked. Cannot believe how long it took to get rid of that putrid smell.

"Excuse me, can you drive any faster?" I pleaded with the taxi driver.

**Friday January 4**

**7:30am** Have most wonderful, faithful boyfriend. Last night was fantastic…

"Sorry. Are we too late?"

"Depends how you look at it. We're too late for the very last showing in this country of Heng Waitsu's previously banned masterpiece, that I've been looking forward to seeing for 11 years..."

"Right," I responded uneasily, wincing a bit, thinking he was about to really let me have it.

He reached out to touch the side of my face, not in an affectionate manner, but rather to remove something that didn't belong. Gaah!! Hope it wasn't more dried excrement. "But there's still time for pizza…possibly some sex afterward, if that's of any interest."

Mark kissed my temple and cocooned me under his arm as we retreated from the cinema. "Hmm…excellent…excellent. Or maybe we could skip the pizza…horrid fattening food."

An obviously disillusioned chap wearing a "The End is Nigh" sandwich board, cut between us. How wrong you are mate, I thought. How wrong you are. The beginning is nigh, and am blissfully happy.

---

In the car, reluctantly told him about my day. V. sweet how he offered to have Richard Finch brought up on charges. Not sure if there is actually a law against being an arsehole though. Mark was probably joking.

Wanted nothing more than to go directly to my flat and ravish him straight away in celebration of life, as was not killed yesterday in tragic skydiving accident or mauled to death by horny swine. But after a v. long day in meetings he was hungry, and not just for me. Said he had worked straight through lunch. So we popped into Pizza Express where we happened to run into Tom and his latest boy toy, Roger. They dominated most of the conversation with talk of music and the variable fitness of male celebrity arses. Surprisingly, even though he contributed v. little to the conversations, noticed Mark chuckling several times at the admittedly ridiculous banter. Suspect that under that reserved, stuffy exterior, Mark has quite a healthy sense of humour. Looking forward to peeling away his layers. Hmmm…

As time trickled by, my restlessness and hinting grew less and less subtle. Mark must have noticed.

"Tom…Roger, I don't mean to be rude, but I do believe that Bridget is suggesting that she would like to be alone with me." He winked devilishly as I flushed with embarrassment. "So if you would excuse us…" He signaled for the bill and grabbed my coat to assist me into it.

"Of course," Tom responded wryly. "Who are we to stand in the way of our Bridget's needs. You kids go have fun now. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Saucy poof. He and Roger hoisted their glasses into the air as Mark and I headed for the door. Turned back one last time to exchange a knowing glance with Tom.

---

Despite the disappointment of missing the film, Mark was yet again the tiger that I had come to expect and enjoy.

…He pressed his hard body against mine…His skillful hands caressing, stroking, tickling…His soft, moist kisses meandering over the peaks, valleys, and crevices of my neck and chest like an experienced explorer on a mission… pulling at my clothes in effort to expose more of my eager, willing body to his manly urges. He strained against those urges to prolong our pleasure for as long as he could until the moment came when he could hold it no longer. And with a rather vocal shudder he collapsed to the mattress.

Afterward, we laid in each other's arms. He dozed in an out of sleepy consciousness, while I traced light circles across his chest. Wanted him to wake up and talk to me about his day; we'd only talked about mine. Didn't just want to be what my colleagues had accused me of being: a horridly dressed, easy lay.

"Mark…" Lifted my face from his chest. "I'm sorry that you were late this morning. Did you have a good day?"

"Yes I did." He lazily kissed the top of my head. "It was very productive." He offered nothing further.

"Which foreign ministers were at your meeting?"

"Well, aside from Margaret Beckett of course, Condoleezza Rice, Philippe Douste-Blazy, Massimo D'Alema,…"

"Condoleezza Rice?"

"Yes, the US Secretary of State."

"I know who she is."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Mark, do you think she's pretty?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. Do you think she's pretty?"

"I don't know…Uh, I suppose she's an attractive woman…in a conservatively-dressed, intelligent sort of way."

"Why did you have to think about it before you answered?"

"I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"Bridget please…let's just go to sleep. I have an early morning and I can't be late again." He kissed my forehead, plumped his pillow, and rolled away.

"Mark?"

"Right. 13 seconds." He rolled onto his back with a sigh.

"Do you think I'm intelligent?"

"Of course I do."

"Are you being ironic?"

"Bridget," he propped himself onto one elbow, exposing his bare chest from beneath the fallen sheet. "You are a brilliant and engaging journalist with moxie that rivals none other." His response sounded rehearsed, as if I were to ask him the same question months from now, he'd answer in exactly the same manner, word for word.

"Do you want to sleep with her?"

"Who?"

"Condoleezza Rice."

"No Bridget! I do not want to sleep with Condoleezza Rice!"

"Well, why not?"

"Because I'm already sleeping with you."

"Mark Darcy that is not funny!" Crossed my arms over my chest.

"Darling, listen to me." He reached up and caressed my cheek. "You are the only beautiful, intelligent woman that I want to sleep with…I promise you. Now can we stop this nonsense and go to sleep?" I smiled and he rolled away so that his back was to me again.

"Did she ask you to call her Condi?"

"Go to sleep Bridget."


End file.
